


Janitor's Closet

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Tumblr: spnkinkbingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: AU. A young Dean gets a blowy in the school’s janitor’s closet.





	Janitor's Closet

**Author's Note:**

> They're 18. This is NOT an underage fic ;)

She hasn’t known him long, just - what? A couple of weeks? He’d walked into English class with this easy bow-legged swagger. Worn brown leather jacket draped over wide shoulders that hung to his mid-thighs, sleeves too long. He’d plopped down into the seat next to her, swung his boots up to thunk onto the desk.

“Hey,” he’d said, eyes a deep forest green. “M’Dean.”

She’s spent the following days in a kind of love-struck fog. He isn’t like any other boy she’s ever met. There’s a mystery about him - he doesn’t talk about himself really, doesn’t tell her where he’s from, doesn’t say much about his family. He’s got a mom and dad and a little brother. There was a fire once. When he was four- they’d barely made it out. He wants to know all about her though, asks her all about her hobbies and interests over Friday pizza. He’s an old soul; she can see it in the hollow depth of his eyes, at the way he listens - like _really_ listens to her. Maybe he’s just got a strong game, she can acknowledge that. But she can hope.

He always walks her to her car, always presses those warm lips to her knuckles and tells her to get home safely. Always tosses her a wink that pulls her gut tight as he closes her door. She offers him a ride day after day through a drawn down window - but he always declines. She stays some days, watches him open the back door of an old black muscle car, watches him ruffle the hair of a much younger boy - freshman maybe? Then she watches him disappear into the passenger’s seat before the massive thing grumbles away.

*

“Skip with me?” he says, just outside Mr. Smith’s open door. He’s biting into that plump give of his bottom lip, and his eyes are brighter than usual; sparkling even.

“I…” It’s just a review today, nothing she can’t go over at home. “Yeah. Sure.” He beams at her - and god it makes her belly flutter. She beams right back.

*

It’s not the first time they’ve made out in the dusty janitor’s closet - and she hopes it won’t be the last. Their lips mold together like they were meant to, and his tongue slides so easy over hers as he goes deep and hungry. His hands are big, cover so much as he runs them all over; pulling and squeezing. It makes her hot and slippery between the legs, and maybe it’s teenage hormones, but fuck if she doesn’t want him, want - _it_.

She boldly pulls at his belt as she breaks away, flits her eyes up with a _yeah_? Dean’s eyes are deep and dark, shadowed under the dull closet light. His lips work involuntarily, trying to form the words his lust-addled brain can’t seem to organize.

“Uh - yeah,” he manages, and swallows. “Fuck _yeah_.”

She’s never done this before, doesn’t have a clue, but she sinks to her knees anyway, and deftly loosens his belt before working his jeans open. He helps her tug his pants and boxers down, and she actually recoils when his dick springs free, full and _thick_. She carefully wraps her fingers around the base, marvels at the way her hand can’t fully close around him. He’s already moaning at the touch, and it makes her draw her lip between her teeth as she starts to drag her hand toward the flared tip.

“_Ohfuck_,” Dean breathes, head already tipped back on his shoulders. She leans in, gives the head a little testing lick, and hums at the salty taste of him. That makes him sigh, and he gets both hands on her head, nails scraping a little over her scalp. She shudders.

“Good?” She asks, needs the validation, needs to know she’s making him feel good.

“Awesome,” Dean rasps, smile lazy. She grins then, a full blush blooming over her cheeks, and licks the tip into her mouth. His hips jerk a little when her lips close around him, fingers tightening around her skull, and groans deep as she sinks down, down, down.

He’s fat and heavy in her mouth, the skin velvety soft around the hardness of him, and she watches the glistening wet her mouth leaves behind as she slicks back. Shifting on her knees, she gets a better grip on him, careful not to squeeze too tight - and finds a somewhat clumsy rhythm of pumping and sucking.

“Shit - _shityeah_,” Dean croaks, hips starting to hump a little into her mouth. She can’t take all of him, but he still manages to hit the back of her throat, and she gags, has to pull off to cough through it. She swings her eyes to his face, fresh heat licking at her skin as she takes in the flush of his cheeks, the glaze of his juniper eyes, the soft part of those full lips…

She dives back down, swallows as much of him as she can, bobbing up and down, quick and sloppy. Her grip is firm at the root of him, fingers curled; flesh on warm flesh. She twists and pumps, sucks and licks - and Dean - Dean’s choking out these desperate little sounds; soft and deep, scrunching her silky hair up into his fists, because he’s - god, he’s - and she’s just - fuck, he’s gonna-

She’s wet clear to her jeans, thinks she might even drip to the floor soon. Her knees hurt, hard linoleum unforgiving against them, but can’t bring herself to care when her mouth’s so full, and he smells so good, tastes so good, and - and. _Oh-_

Dean grunts, folds in a little, and then his dick’s twitching and spurting, coating the back wall of her throat with salty wet. It’s good and foreign, makes her eyes water, but she swallows as he slicks free, makes a show of licking her lips and dragging the back of her hand across her chin. He pants as he looks down at her, chest heaving as his shaking hands right his jeans. “That, ah - that was fuckin’ awesome,” he gleams, eyes achored to hers as she rises back to her feet.

“Yeah?” she grins, flushed and beaming at the praise.

“Yeah.” He gets both arms around her, drags her to his chest, thumbs little designs into her back. “Let’s skip lunch today.”

She squints up at him, beginning to comprehend his meaning, and tilts her head. “_You_ \- wanna skip lunch?”

Dean grins a boyish grin, eyes bright and playful. “Let’s just say I’m hungry for somethin’ other than what’s on the menu.”


End file.
